Lost
by ShatteredColors
Summary: She had never needed anyone. She was fierce, strong, independent, and all of the above. But maybe, for once in her life, she needed someone. She needed him. Makorra.


The air reeked of death; if death even had a scent. Maybe it only seemed that way because she knew they were there. The bodies, that is. Scattered carelessly all around her, mangled and broken. Merely remains of the souls they once held. She forced her mind to not think of them. Not to think that they all had families, that they had meant something to someone. They had been the enemy, but that was irrelevant to the point. Someone had loved them. Perhaps one of them was someone's mother. Someone's father. Maybe their sister or their brother... They could have been someone's _Mako_, whatever he was to her anymore. It hardly mattered at the moment.

Korra's heart ached for the fallen, and even more for their loved ones. After all, they were the people who had to continue living with the new void in their lives, while the dead no longer felt any pain.

She made a silent but sincere apology for the lives she had stolen, the relationships she had wrecked, the people she had changed. If things continued at the rate they were going, she would know all too well what it would be like to be those people. What it would be like to have the ones she loved murdered.

Her eyes only saw darkness. And not the soft kind of darkness you see after the sun sets. No, the kind of darkness that is menacing. Terrifying. _Pitch _black.

She knew the remaining equalists were hanging back, waiting for the signal or the perfect moment to strike. She had the dreadful sense that they could see her.

Her breathing was labored, her wrists sore from their bonds. She hung her head while remaining as alert as she could manage.

_Tap, tap. _

_Tap, tap. _

Her head snapped up again, eyes widening, heart hammering in her chest. _Footsteps. Someone is coming._

_Tap tap, schfffff._

_Tap tap, schfffff._

She knew that sound. Not the footsteps, but the other. That dreadful, _dreadful_ sound.

She caused that sound herself a couple hours ago, when she had knocked out the guards patrolling the hall and hidden them in the shadows. It was the sound of a body. Being dragged.

_Oh God, please, no._

Her eyes overwhelmingly stung with tears, but she wouldn't let them fall. No, she would never let them have that satisfaction.

After a while, the noises stopped, and a voice spoke to her from the darkness like she knew it would.

"_Avatar Korra,_"Amon drawled, low and sinister, "I told you I would save you for last." Her palms were sweaty and her throat was dry; she didn't trust her voice to speak. He chuckled without humor, and the sound was eerie unlike anything she'd ever heard before. "I won't make it quick, though. That would be no fun."

There was a sudden bright flash of a shock-glove as Amon struck air to tease Korra with the threat he was posing.

On the floor, a sliver of fabric from a red scarf was illuminated by the brief burst of light from the glove.

A tear slipped.

She couldn't even wipe it away with her hands restricted behind her back, so it clung to her face like a reminder. A reminder of her weakness. Of the person on the floor.

Somehow Amon realized what she had seen. "He's not dead yet, Avatar. Why would I kill him somewhere you couldn't watch?" She felt like she would vomit. "I plan to break you _inside _first."

A single overhead light was suddenly turned on, and she was momentarily blinded while her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Once they did, and she _saw, _she longed for everything to be coated in darkness again.

Her breath hitched and her heart stopped. Mako's face. His arms. His legs. His _body. _He was broken. _So_ broken.

Blood was caked all over him to such an extent that Korra could barely tell where his clothes ended and his skin began. _Was there even any skin **left? **_

And the way he was positioned on the floor just wasn't... normal. People shouldn't be able to bend that way. The sight chilled her to the bone. The thought of someone, anyone, doing this to him made her skin tingle and her blood boil. She wanted nothing more than to make Amon suffer.

The worst part was that she couldn't. She was helpless; and she absolutely _hated _feeling helpless. She couldn't help Mako; she couldn't even go to him. Couldn't touch him. Hold him. Fix him.

Korra wanted to scream until her lungs caved in upon her chest. She wanted revenge on Amon. She wanted to stop him from doing the inevitable; from hurting him further. From killing him.

Mako's swollen eyes batted open, an instant expression of pain overtaking his face. They found her own eyes, and she could almost feel her heart break inside her chest. Nothing she ever experienced had hurt the way it did when he looked at her like that, bloodied and broken, and she knew she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

The actual realization was too much for her to even comprehend. Amon was going to kill him. Mako would be gone, and he would never come back.

All too soon, Amon's hand forcefully gripped Mako's arm, yanking him into a sitting position. His face contorted with agony, but he didn't let out a sound.

Amon spoke to her again. "I want you to feel the pain I felt when I lost my parents, Korra. Tell me how it feels to watch the person you love die."

She didn't even have time to think. Mako's golden irises met hers, swimming with an emotion that Korra couldn't quite place, and then suddenly glazed over as the light drained from them, and she realized what had happened. Amon's hands fell from Mako's neck, and she screamed. Screamed with every fiber of her being.

* * *

His name. It pierced the otherwise quiet night with a frequency that could shatter glass.

Mako bolted up in his bed, sheets falling to the side as he was harshly startled out of sleep.

_Korra. _

Suddenly very much awake, he wasted no time in getting out of bed and out the bedroom door, not even bothering to put on a shirt. His mind swam with worry and confusion. _Korra. Screaming. Equalists? _

He didn't think about how he was to fight off a horde of chi-blockers, how he was to actually help the young avatar, how _he_ was to not get hurt in the process. No, he thought of none of that. Korra was hurt. And she had called for him. That was all.

Mako was an amazing probender, but outside the ring, his traditional bending skills weren't nearly up to par. And so if there actually was a barrage of equalists trying to harm her, he didn't have much of a chance.

He was insanely relieved, and a little confused, when he found her on the couch alone. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting on top of them, seemingly distressed, but not hurt. That was a good sign.

Cautiously, not wanting to startle her, he called out quietly. "Korra?"

Her head snapped up and her bright blue eyes met his, sending a shiver down his spine. She wasn't quite crying, no, Korra never cried, but she looked about on the verge of doing so. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a mess, and her shirt sleeve was bunched up on one shoulder and slightly hanging off on the other, and despite the circumstances, he couldn't help but notice how absolutely beautiful she looked.

"Are you alright?" He asked hesitantly, as he padded his way over to her, "You said... my name..."

He stumbled slightly over his words, for she was looking at him with such a bewildering expression. She almost seemed to be in awe, but there was a certain vulnerability in her eyes that made him curious.

As he settled onto the edge of the couch, he asked again. "Korra?"

She didn't answer. Instead, with the same look still gracing her features, she reached forward tentatively with her hand and touched his arm. Just slightly, prodding, to see if he actually existed.

The nightmare had seemed too realistic. The feelings, the clarity, _everything_. It was so _real._ But here Mako was, sitting in front of her, completely okay. She had never felt so relieved in her entire life.

After making sure he wasn't just a figment of her imagination, she relaxed. And after sitting for a moment in content silence, she finally replied.

"A dream," She whispered, "Well, a nightmare, I guess... That's all it was. I'm alright. But, you know, thanks for coming to check on me, and stuff... Sorry I woke you up."

"A nightmare about me? Am I that bad?" He chuckled softly at his own joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, yeah, it was about you, but not like that. Although, considering your usual sunny personality," her sarcasm was oozing, "I'm surprised you _don't_ give me nightmares." She laughed, and Mako felt better now that he had cheered her up. Even if it meant a little hit at his pride.

Her laughter died down quickly, and they were plunged into silence once more. They stayed this way for a while, both of them keeping their eyes on the seat of the couch, until Korra spoke again.

"Amon... He had you."

"What do you mean?"

"In my dream, he hurt you. Really bad. And he had me tied up so I couldn't do anything about it, and then he killed you. Right there. And I_ saw_. I've never felt so... lost." Her voice wavered just slightly, almost undetectable, but he caught it. And it broke his heart. It broke his heart that the reason she was currently so upset wasn't because she feared Amon killing _her, _it was because she feared Amon killing _him. _She was worried about him.

He didn't know what to say.

"...I'm... I'm alright, Korra. Everything's alright." He felt the need to offer her more comfort, but restrained himself.

She let out a shaky breath, and smiled slightly, letting him know she was okay. And even though she saw the horrors of her dream like they were glued to the inside of her eyelids, she knew she must sleep.

Korra leaned back onto the couch, pulling her blanket securely up to her chin. She didn't say aloud that she wanted him to stay with her, he would tease her forever if she had, but she didn't tell him otherwise, and so he remained.

He sat next to her, silently lost in thought, as sleep slowly overcame the avatar. And after it had, it took him, too, and he rested his head ever so lightly upon her own as she dreamt of him once more.

* * *

_**AN:** Yes, I know this idea's been used like hell, but I don't even care. I REGRET NOTHING. xD_

_And don't ask what point of view this is in, because, honestly, I have no clue._

_FYI, writing the dream literally made me cry. Mako is my love. And if anything serious happens to him in the show (And I have a very bad feeling that it will) I'm gonna do something unpleasant. Don't you fuckin dare hurt my Mako, Bryke. That's all I have to say about that.  
_

**_Any comments, questions, concerns? Please review. Any type of feedback is very much welcome~_**


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